My hands froze in mid-air, a pair of boxers hanging from them. Should I really be going with them? What if the Clarksons invaded? What if Evan got hurt? Or Logan orCalan? How could I look Chester in the eye if Finn was killed?
“Everything okay?”
I spun to see Evan leaning against my doorframe. His impressive arms were folded over his chest, making his biceps bulge. The sight should’ve reassured me, but it didn’t. “Are ye sure about this? What if the Clarksons attack because I’m inside the clan boundaries?”
He shrugged. “Then we’ll execute them. Simple.”
I wavered.
Shoving off the frame with a sigh, Evan stalked closer and caught my chin between his fingers. “We’re more than capable of looking after ourselves, sweetheart. Especially on our own lands. They might not be the smartest clan, but I doubt even they are stupid enough to launch an attack when we have the home ground advantage.”
“That’s true,” I muttered. “I just don’t like the idea of anyone being hurt because of me.”
“And I can’t stand the idea of you being hurt, regardless,” he said quietly. “I’ve promised to keep ye safe, Reid, so get packing and let me do it.”
I swallowed, having a realisation that was about thirteen years too late. “It wasn’t fair of me to ask that of you.”
“I think you should’ve asked it, and a lot more.” Evan let go of my chin, stepping back with a crooked grin. “Now, I’ll stop distracting ye so we can get going before the snow comes.”
When I turned back to my case, it was with a smile on my face.
It took longer to finish than I expected. I’d dithered over how much to bring. Evan hadn’t put a time limit on my stay, but what would his parents think if I rocked up with half a tonne of stuff? Talk about making a bad impression.
It wasn’t like I could pack light though. Maybe if I lived in southern England and it was summertime. Winter in the Scottish Highlands was a different beast, one you had to be prepared for.
The case was so full by the time I was done that I had to sit on it to get the zip closed. A pang hit me as I hauled it off my bed. When I’d fled the Clarksons, I’d had room in here to spare.
My life was fuller now. Or, it had been, until my family had shown their faces again.
Would I ever get it back? Or should I resign myself to what I could fit in this case and be satisfied?
Stop thinking in metaphors,I scolded myself, dragging the case into the lounge.It’s not going to get you anywhere.
Evan spun, tutting as he spotted the case. “I would’ve brought that out for you.”
“It’s done now,” I said, ignoring how my arms were protesting. Not my biceps—I didn’t have those. Not the kind that were any use in this situation, anyway. “This is it.”
Evan frowned. “What do you mean?”
I ran a hand over my hair sheepishly. “Shit, did I pack too much? I thought I might’ve. I can take some stuff out and?—”
“Reid,” he said. I blinked and Evan was in front of me, cupping my face. My traitorous knees went weak. They loved this far too much. “I meant what about the rest of your stuff?”
“What stuff?”
He tutted again, letting his hands drop as he turned. “Like your Switch. Your laptop. A few puzzles. We should bring your stabbing hook thing too, just in case you want to pick that up again.”
I gaped as I watched Evan buzz around my living room, piling objects high in his arms.
When he was done, he stopped in front of me and grinned. “Anything else?”
I snatched the pen and paper from the top. That’s right, he’d even grabbed my list from the fridge. “Evan, are you crazy? I can’t take all of this!”
He cocked his head, brows drawing together. “Why not?”
“Whatever will your parents think? It looks like I’m moving in.”
His lips twitched. “If you were moving in, you’d have a lot more stuff, Reid.”
